Page 26 of Moonshine and Magnolias
“Want to join me in the newspaper morgue after?”
“I’d love to. Really, I can’t think of anything I’d like more than sitting in some windowless basement looking at microfiche, but the tour is in two days and I’m not ready. Guess I have to spend my time in the fresh outdoors and make sure my speech hits all the interesting notes.”
“Remember what might be interesting to a geeky historian won’t be interesting to a seventh grader,” Hal said.
“It will be if I do my job right.” Rob gave his brother a sharp salute as he left, then neatly reboxed the books and put them where Ms. Eulalee indicated when she came in. Hal didn’t return.
Once everything had been stored, Rob charted the path of the tour outlined by Grandma Maybelle with Wendy’s voice in his mind admonishing him to follow it exactly. First stop, and where he would greet the campers, was the circular drive bordered by dogwoods at the front. He stood facing the Hall, where he caught a glimpse of Wendy linked arm and arm with the ginger-haired man. A bat was hoisted over his shoulder. One of the new guests from breakfast walked the same path, but looked more like he wanted to smack some heads around than hit any balls.
The radiating heat between Rob and Wendy last night hadn’t been one-sided. With the way her breathing had changed, the way her tongue had sneaked out to lick a corner of her lips, the way she had leaned into him ever-so-slightly, he would have bet Uncle Louis’s hopefully-soon-to-be-recovered fortune that she wanted him, too. Her shared intimacy with this man didn’t look like he was just a friend.
Damn.
Chapter 06
Wendy stood with a bat in her hands, elbows up, ready to swing at whatever Sebastien threw her way. Her shirt was already sticking to her in the mid-day heat, but for once, she didn’t care if her appearance was less than pristine. Her friend had seen her after games where her hair was matted to her head and her red uniform maroon from the dirt. At least the trees in the orchard provided some shade.
Sebastien picked up a peach among the ones that had fallen to the ground. He drew his hands to his chest, then threw the fruit right in her strike zone. It broke apart like a firework and hung in the surrounding air before gravity took over and dragged it down. A large piece of peach clung to the wood for dear life, but skimmed off the side and fell into the dirt.
“Home run!” she yelled.
“Ha! A double at most. Maybe a triple if the shortstop was fantasizing of a life with me.” Even after living in the States for a decade, the combination of a French-Italian accent was all it took for him to be charming and make most women swoon, but Wendy was immune. He picked another peach up off the ground, ready to throw again.
“I still can’t believe you’re here. You’re such a sneak. Must be that two yearsof military training,” she said. Fruit pieces surrounded her feet and she tried not to step in the mess. Sebastien was one of the few people she felt safe around, where she could be unguarded and relaxed. Mostly because she had already lost him to Brandi, even though her cousin didn’t seem to have any clue.
She pointed her bat at the hulking guest who had followed them to the orchard. He stood soldier-straight next to a tree, out of the way but keeping his eyes everywhere. “Your bodyguards could have just told me they were here for you.”
“They had to check out you and the grounds before they’d let me stay. Apparently you passed muster.”
He pitched another one, and she skillfully hit it far enough over his head that he had to jump to field it. The peach hit the tree and dropped on his head to the shoulders of his white linen shirt. When he shot her an annoyed look, she flipped her bat in a three-sixty and caught the handle.
“Showoff.” He trotted over and encompassed her in a hug, rubbing her with his fruit-covered hair while she laughed and tried to fend him off. “I had to come,mon caneton. It pained me that I couldn’t make it for the funeral.” His arms tightened around her, but out of friendship, not revenge.
“I know you had family demands. The flowers were beautiful. You remembered peonies were her favorite.”
“And I was worried about you.”
“Me?” She stayed plastered to his broad chest, her eye jammed against a button. “I’m handling it.”
He stepped back and raised an eyebrow at her, then waved his man away with a regal flick of his wrist. “Go get some lunch, Loïc.”
“Your Highness…”
Sebastien gave a polite cough accompanied by a glare that spoke more than any words.
It was hard to imagine someone so imposing looking disturbed, but Loïc managed it well. “Sir, calling you by your given name is inappropriate.”
“Then call me Leonardo. Or Claude. As long as you don’t call me you-know-what. Now skedaddle.”
The man bowed. “Very well, Mr. Leonardo.”
“Isn’t he supposed to, like, protect you or something? Because I certainly can’t, not even with this bat.” The man’s surprisingly limber body crested the hill to the house. “How can he do that if you’re not even occupying the same acre?”
“They’re here to do my bidding and to make sure I don’t break a nail. And I wanted you to be able to tell me the truth without additional ears.” He led Wendy to one of the stone benches scattered along the border of the orchard. “How are you, really?”
Wendy shrugged, keeping her eyes on the hand entwined with hers. “I’m okay.” Truth was, if she gave voice to her loss and whatever was happening to her when Dr. Upshaw was around, everything she’d tucked neatly inside would leak like a hole in the Hoover Dam. Sebastien couldn’t do anything about it anyway, so there was no point.
He tapped her nose with his finger. “Liar.”
